metal box.
“That explains the meals,” he said. “It doesn’t explain what I’ve been keeping for eleven years.”
He removed a small key from his wallet and opened the lid.
Inside were dozens of cassette tapes.
Each one had a handwritten label.
I leaned closer.
My breath caught.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It belonged to Dad. GetParenting Tips
The labels read:
Eighteenth Birthday.
High School Graduation.
Your Wedding Day.
When Life Feels Too Difficult.
Becoming a Parent.
When You Think Nobody Understands.
I stared at the tapes.
“What are these?”
Gabriel’s voice softened.
“Messages your father recorded for you.” GetParenting Tips
My knees felt weak.
Dad had known his health was declining.
Before he died, he’d recorded messages for the milestones and difficult moments he feared he might miss.
He’d entrusted the recordings to Gabriel with instructions to give them to me when I turned eighteen.
“But I turned